Eggs Florentine
by RisingFire
Summary: There was a long, curly, brown hair in her food, and it certainly wasn't hers... Dramione, Narcissa's POV. For Round Two of the Harry Potter Fanfiction Triwizard Tournament.


Written for Round Two of The Harry Potter Fanfiction Triwizard Tournament.

**Eggs Florentine**

Narcissa Malfoy frowned.

She squinted.

She glared.

She reached down to her plate of Eggs Florentine and, with two long, delicately manicured fingers, pulled out a hair.

A long, curly, brown hair.

Narcissa Malfoy did not have long, curly, brown hair, but pin-straight, white-blonde hair. And so the question arose: whose hair was in her food?

In the corner of her bedroom, a tiny, shrunken house-elf trembled and let out a squeak of fear.

"Whose is this, Crick?"

The dropped to his knees, wailing, "I is not to be telling you, Mistress!"

"And why is that?"

Crick's voice rose like a siren, "I is not to be telling you, Mistress!"

"Who told you not to tell me that?"

"I- I- I is not to be telling you, Mistress!"

"I order you to tell me, Crick!"

The elf looked torn, but apparently fear was a better incentive than loyalty, as he cried, "It is belonging to the crazy mistress with the hats!" before burying his leathery head in his hands and sobbing into it.

Narcissa Malfoy sighed, and set her food aside. She took a sip of her warm tea, and then matted her hair down. Slipping from the covers of her bed, she settled her feet into a pair of slippers. Even in her pyjamas, she looked ready to kill.

The elf let out a final tiny scream, and then disappeared with a crack. Narcissa paid him no head, and left her room, striding purposefully, yet elegantly, down the corridors of her Manor to the kitchen, without even wincing at the chill.

Before entering, she paused, and listened for a moment.

Sure enough, from behind the door came the signs of people trying incredibly hard to be silent: heavy breathing, stilled shadows and a general air of terrified-ness. She smiled icily, and stepped back from the door.

There were two identical sighs of relief.

"Draco Malfoy, vacate the kitchen this instant, because your mother wishes to speak to you!" She said loudly and clearly, in a tone that would have struck fear into even the bravest of men, let alone Draco Malfoy, who was a bit of a coward really.

Nothing more than a shocked silence followed this for a few seconds, before an abashed voice said, "I'd rather not."

Eyes narrowing, she decided to try a different approach. "Draco, either I am going slightly insane in my- ahem –old age, or the owner of the long, curly, brown hair I discovered in my breakfast this morning is hiding in there with you, and if you don't come out, _I will come in._"

There was some vague shuffling and whispering.

"Mother, maybe you _are _going insane-"

She emitted an indignant noise.

"I mean it's only to be expected at your age- I mean! Not that you're getting old- I mean, you're a mother and- and- and mothers are all slightly insane, not that you _are_ insane of course, I'm just presenting a theory here, maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong? But what I can definitely tell you is that there is nobody in this kitchen with me, and definitely nobody with long, curly, brown hair."

Despite the fact that he couldn't see her, she gave him a sceptical look.

"Indeed, Draco? I do hate it when you lie, my dear."

"I'm not lying."

She withheld yet another sigh (there had been far too many sighs this morning already, she decided). Unfortunately, she could see that tact was getting her no where.

"Draco, I know you have Hermione Granger hidden behind that door!"

There were several noises from behind the door, and then a pair of ashamed faces appeared, followed by a pair of ashamed bodies.

Narcissa Malfoy surveyed.

She squinted.

She glared.

"Lovely eggs, Miss Granger, though perhaps a tad overdone. Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be better next time. I hope you shall be joining us again next weekend."

Then, gracefully, she swept down the hall again, with a dainty smirk on her face.

Strangely, next weekend, she found no hairs in her Eggs Florentine, but she did find Hermione Granger smiling shyly at her from the other end of the breakfast table.


End file.
